


Continuation

by heartsinger



Series: Continuation & Extras [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Consent Issues, Dehumanization, Desapientization, Desentientization, Devulcanization, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forced Cultural Assimilation, Gen, Genderqueer Character, Human Experimentation, Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage, James T. Kirk Has Issues, James T. Kirk Has PTSD, Minor Character Death, Not Star Trek: Beyond Compliant, Not Star Trek: Into Darkness Compliant, Past Child Abuse, Post-Star Trek (2009), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Sapient Experimentation, Sapient Trafficking, Sentient Experimentation, Sentient Trafficking, Spock (Star Trek) Has Feelings, Spock Has PTSD, Spock has issues, Tarsus IV, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, Vulcan Mind Melds, because apparently that's the tag, but it's gonna take a while, call it, deadnaming, except technically them are also aliens, for blacklisting, no promises on finishing this, which is to say
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2018-11-09 07:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11100225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsinger/pseuds/heartsinger
Summary: How do you keep going when your entire world is gone? How do you keep emotion from swallowing you whole?





	1. James T. Kirk 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure I'll ever finish this.  
> My headcanon is that Spock Prime is quite simply mistaken; the universe in which he finds himself is not an alternate timeline, but a completely different reality which happens to be very similar to the one he is from. The tech is more advanced, the ships are bigger, and the Vulcans are much less logical. Not that they’re going to admit that. Also, the phenomena described in the film as black holes/singularities are not so as the terms are currently commonly understood. They are Applied Phlebotinum and have exactly as much of a gravity well as the plot demands.  
> This is fanfiction. By definition, it takes much inspiration from other works. Various parts of this are doubtless heavily inspired or lifted whole from other fanfics. If I remember where I got various ideas, they will be credited in the endnotes in the first chapter in which they appear. I believe that this story brings enough new things to the table to be worth reading.  
> I do not really understand the way that space warps time (and I don’t care enough to try). Therefore, based on the Stardate system used in the film, I am measuring dates using the Gregorian calendar, year being before the decimal and day after. Days range from .1 to .365 (.366 on leap years). Thus, 2258.42 is the 42nd day of 2258, or Thursday, February 11th, 2258 C.E. The stardates ending in .04 and .06 should have ended in .4 and .6, respectively. Yes, Stardates are now 100% Earth-centric. Sorry.  
> I am not a medical professional, and I don’t have PTSD. I have tried whenever possible to ask someone who knows better than me what it’s like and how it’s treated, but any remaining inaccuracies are my own. This fic isn’t intended to comment on anyone else’s experience with mental illness or to invalidate anyone’s way of dealing with it.  
> Thank you to timeanddate.com for calculating the Gregorian date for all my Stardates, among other calculations; Wikipedia and Memory Alpha for knowing things I don’t; the most ridiculous history class of my life for starting it all; Sparkly_Eevee for being my Star Trek, medical, psychological, technobabble, Russian, and "what do I even DO now?" consultant; M. and P. for continued feedback; and everyone involved in Star Trek for giving me a universe to play in.  
> Obviously, I don't own the world this is set in and derive no monetary gain from writing in it.

####  **Stardate 2258.42 (Thursday, February 11th, 2258 CE), 1615 hours**

“Sickbay to Bridge, what the goddamn hell was that, and will we be getting more of it?”

“Warp core ejection and detonation to escape the gravity well of a black hole, Bones. Should be relatively smooth sailing from here on out.”

“Relatively smooth. Well, that’s reassuring. I’m in the middle of surgery, the sailing had goddamn well better be smooth. And get your ass down here for a checkup. Bring Spock.”

“C’mon, you know we can’t both leave—”

“Bullshit, you just went and left the goddamned ship together, I think Sulu can hold down the bridge a bit longer.”

“Yes, doctor!” Sulu puts in.

“Traitor,” says Kirk without real rancor. “Fine, Bones, we’ll be there as soon as—”

“You two will get your asses down here _now_ or I will put you both on medical suspension, so help me God.”

“Fine. God, you’re cranky.”

“Just get down here.”

“We’re on our way.”

The ship shudders violently and makes a final-sounding clunk.

“Jim, this—”

“Doctor, I need you in here,” says Chapel urgently in the background.

“Captain, we're not moving, and the impulse drive is unresponsive,” says Sulu.

“Don’t think this means you can get out of comin’ down here, Jimmy. McCoy out.”

“Kirk to Engineering. Scotty, what the hell just happened?”

“The impulse drive failed. I dinnae know why yet.”

“Thank you. Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, work with Engineering to get us moving again and restore communications. I have to go see our medical overlord. Oh, and Chekov, update the ship on the situation.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Spock, with me.”

Spock stands immediately, but says nothing. They walk toward the turbolift in silence. Once inside, Jim says “We need to talk about stuff, Spock.”

Spock raises an eyebrow. “ ‘Stuff’?”

“Are you going to attempt to resume your command?”

“Not at this time. Your leadership, however… unconventional, has been effective. Further changes to the command roster will only undermine crew morale.”

“If we’re gonna keep crew morale up, we need to present a united front. Can I count on you, Commander Spock?”

“Affirmative.”

“Awesome! After we finish in medical, where do you suggest we begin?”

“I believe our first priority must be ensuring that Engineering has the resources and personnel it needs to restore communications and the impulse drive. We also must assist the medical staff with whatever is required and check on what crew we have left.”

“What’s up with those Council people of yours?”

Spock again raises his brow. “I presume you refer to the remaining members of the Vulcan High Council? They, and the other refugees, are either in the medbay or in Lounge 4-2.”

“Uh, yeah, the High Council. What other refugees?”

“Three hundred fifty-five children were evacuated using the cargo transporters. We will need to record whom we have aboard and begin locating potential guardians as soon as possible.”

* * *

“Bones?” Jim is looking around the auxiliary medbay, frowning. Bones is nowhere in view. The room is chaotic, loud, and smells of smoke and something astringent. Doctors, nurses, and medics are bustling around the room. People are moaning and screaming in pain. There’s something of a line leading to a medic. Spock and Jim join the line. Some time later, the medic looks at them and waves them forward. He scans both of them and shakes his head. “I can’t replicate you real casts right now, but you’ll need them. I’ll set your fingers as best I can now and splint them.”

“Splints? Casts? Medic, I need my hands.”

“And if you want hands that aren't permanently damaged, you need your fingers splinted. You’ve broken most of your fingers.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Dr. McCoy said you might object. I’m authorized to put you under if I have to to get you to accept medical care. I’d rather not, though, I have a dozen patients who need it more. Either let me splint your hands—and don’t remove the splints—or I’ll be forced to follow orders.”

“Fine.”

“I knew we could come to an understanding! Now, you’re at risk for significant internal bleeding as well, so I can’t risk giving you painkillers. You might not notice. Come back if it gets much worse, or when we page for ambulant patients. Commander Spock, your injuries aren’t serious. Come back for dermal regen when things are less busy. Probably a few days.”

“It is likely that my injuries will be healed by then.”

“Great. Now get out of my medbay.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

“If you can find anyone with medical training who’s well enough to assist with triage, that would be amazing. Honestly, anyone who even passed Advanced First Aid, but Trauma Care would be better. And we need help,” the medic waves his hands around to indicate the general state of chaos in the medbay, “getting this mess under control.”

“You got it.” Kirk and Spock leave the medbay. The hall outside is crowded with injured crew waiting for medical care.

“Computer, locate crew aboard trained as personnel officers.”

“Ensign Kita Mizuki; Ensign Mann, Samantha; Ensign Radev, Ioan (deceased).”

“Computer, locate Ensign Kita and Ensign Mann.”

“Ensign Kita is in Engineering, Ensign Mann is in Administration.”

“Kirk to Ensign Mann.”

“What can I do for you, Captain?”

“Ensign, we need more crew on medical detail. Particularly people who’ve passed the Trauma Care unit or Advanced First Aid. Also some folks to help keep lines and such orderly. Maybe some of our more considerate Security staff.”

“I’m on it. Anything else?”

“That’s it for now, Ensign. Kirk out. Computer, directional lights to Lounge 4-2.” Lights appear on the wall and floor pointing the way.

* * *

Lounge 4-2 is silent. There are a few hundred Vulcans, mostly younger school-aged. They’re scattered through the room, staring at nothing. Spock leads Kirk to a tall older woman.

“Elder T’Pau, this is Captain James Kirk. Captain, this is Elder T’Pau, the leader of our people.”

“Elder T’Pau, it is an honor to meet you, despite the horrifying circumstances. How can the Enterprise best help your people?”

“Captain, you have already done much. We are gratified that the war criminal and his weapon are destroyed. Now our children are hungry. On the way to Earth, we replicated food, but since the last engagement, the replicators have not worked.”

Kirk frowned. “The replicators here aren't working?”

“They are not, Captain Kirk.”

“Captain, perhaps they reset themselves after the blast—” Spock says.

“Yeah, you go check. I’ll go, uh, look into sleeping quarters or at least blankets. Isn’t Vulcan really warm?”

“During the day, yes, but at night it is very cold by Human standards, so Vulcans are accustomed to a wider range of temperatures.”

“I see. Find me if the replicator problem is more complicated, Commander.”

“Understood, Captain.”

Kirk walks back out into the hallway and ducks into a supply closet.

“Computer, Kirk to Ensign Mann.”

“Captain?”

“Ensign, who is in charge of living quarters and stuff?”

“Er, I’m mostly qualified.”

“What’s the status of our sleeping quarters, bedclothes, replication material, and rations?”

“Replicators are returning an out of stock error, but I think they must be broken; everything was in good working order before that big explosion. We should have enough rations for at least three months (that’s regulation), but automatic inventory checkers aren’t working. Blankets are in storage rooms that have been cut off from the main passageways, but should still be reachable by Jefferies tube. The condition of sleeping quarters varies considerably. Diplomatic quarters are intact, as is Command, but most of the crew quarters were destroyed. We can maybe sleep two hundred at a time in actual beds (not counting sickbay, of course). There should be sleeping mats there for medical staff as well. If vital signs readings are accurate, we have about five hundred people aboard (about one hundred fifty Starfleet crew and three hundred fifty Vulcan refugees), but that doesn’t count anyone in a section of the ship where life signs detection isn’t working. Probably we have between five hundred twenty and six hundred people total, and about thirty of them can sleep in sickbay, either staff or patients. So we can sleep in three shifts, or put some people on the floor. Probably the first one.”

“Good work, Ensign. Send someone to check the blanket stores, and make sure they take a communicator. Check the replication material yourself, and tell no one but me what you find, do you understand? And make sure to have a communicator too.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Captain?” comes Spock’s voice. He’s outside the storage room, looking up and down the passageway. Kirk steps out of the storage room with a smile.

“Hi, Spock. What do you need?”

“The replicator is returning a ‘no material’ error.”

“I know. Who knows about this?”

“Everyone who’s tried to use a replicator.”

“Come on, Spock.” Kirk rushes away from the room full of Vulcans and ducks Spock into a small conference room half a deck over. “I just got off the comm with Ensign Mann. She said that the computer sensors in replication material storage aren’t working properly, so hopefully we’re actually fully stocked, but if we aren’t, we have a very serious problem. Our ration supplies are also unknown. And if people start to figure that out, we could have a panic on our hands.”

“That is indeed serious.”

“I’m going to go check the ration inventory personally. You go help Scotty restore communications.”

“What do you intend to do if we do not have replication material?”

“Work out rations to make rations last as long as possible, and throw everything we’ve got into restoring communications in hopes Starfleet can get somebody out here with something. Impulse power won’t get us much of anywhere fast.”

“With the remainder of the Fleet in the Laurentian System, it is possible that there will be no relieving force.”

“Do you have any better ideas, Mr. Spock?!”

“No.”

“Then get to work and hope there damn well is one.”

“Vulcans do not—”

“Don’t give me that shit, Spock, we have work to do.”

“Captain, you appear to be distre—”

“I’m fine, Spock.”

“That is demonstrably untrue.”

“I can hold it together. Get moving, Commander. That’s an order.”

“Yes, Captain.”

* * *

Kirk moves to the ration storage area at a near run, fingers subtly trembling under the splints. He waves open the door to the room and pales. The room is nearly empty, with a mere three pallets sitting in the middle of a room that could contain a hundred or more. Kirk moves fully into the storage room, looks at the labels on the pallets, and waves the door closed.

“Kirk to Mann.”

“Captain?”

“Where are you?”

“Where I was ordered to be. Are you able to take a sensitive report now?”

“Yes, Ensign.”

“I’m in the replicator maintenance room. The seals on the replication material were damaged by the combat near Vulcan and when escaping from the singularity further damaged the hull they got sucked into space before the secondary structural integrity field asserted itself. We have no replication material.”

The trembling in Kirk’s hands is now pronounced, and he sags against a wall. “Ensign, we have two pallets of standard rations (Human) and a pallet of standard rations (Vulcan).”

“A-are you sure?”

“Yes, Ensign.”

“Well, Captain, we have a very serious problem. That won’t feed our Human crew for more than a few days, maybe a week or two if we eat one meal a day. That’s less than a meal and a half per Vulcan we have on board, though, and a couple of Starfleet crewmembers of different species will be in trouble too.”

“Affirmative. We can break open the rations and quarter them. It’s not ideal, but it should buy us a few days. How are our water supplies?”

“Captain, are you well?”

“Yes, Mann. Answer the question!”

“They should be fine. I’ll personally double check, but the automated sensors are returning fully stocked. What do I do after that?”

“Were you able to find assistance for Medical?”

“Yes. Two cross-trained ensigns from Command and a lieutenant and petty officer from Operations are helping on the medical side of things, and I sent up two members of the security team who I believe will be suited to help create more order among those awaiting care.”

“Well done, Ensign. Search the supply records for anything that might be edible and report if you find anything. Actually, you do that now, I’ll check the water reserves. I’m closer anyway. And Mann?”

“Captain?”

“Not a word to anyone, that’s an order.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Kirk straightens up, tries to clench his hands into fists, suppresses a wince at the pain, and leaves the room.


	2. Spock 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated for fancy translation 2018-10-04.  
> Shoutout to my friend P. for talking this chapter through with me.

####  **Stardate 2258.42**

#####  **1642:37 hours (4 hours, 12 minutes and 5 seconds after the destruction of Vulcan)**

Spock’s heart is still racing. Only a lifetime of keeping himself still prevents him from trembling with the force of it, from hyperventilating. Instead, he moves with speed and purpose toward the engineering section. The safety of the ship must be ensured.

“Commander Spock! Help!” a muffled voice says from above the passageway.

Spock startles and looks up. Atop the grate that forms the bottom of the overhead lies a person who has fallen through the Jefferies tube above. Their body is mashed into the grate by the broken pieces.

“Can’t move. Too heavy. Tube unstable. Break grate.”

“I see. Computer—”

“Broken.”

Spock opens his communicator and speaks “Spock to Engineering.”

“We're a wee bit busy down here, Commander.”

“I need a laser cutter and a wide rolling lift in Passageway 2 at Bulkhead 15. The Jefferies tube above has collapsed and there is a crewmember stuck between the debris and the overhead grate.”

“Oh, dear. I can get ye that. Someone will be there shortly.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander Scott.”

A couple of minutes later, a sailor appears with the required items. Spock takes the cutter.

“Raise the lifter one point five metres, Sailor. Get on the other side and move this person to medical as soon as they are cut free. Return the lift and yourself to Engineering as soon as possible after that.”

“Yes, Commander.”

The sailor raises the lift. Spock programs the laser and carefully cuts the grate, walking around the lift to avoid pointing the laser at an angle. The stuck crewmember falls to the lift along with debris. The sailor pulls the lift out from under the hole as more debris clatters onto the deck, then goes back around the lift and pushes it down the passageway toward the turbolift. Spock continues on his way to Engineering.

As Spock enters, he sees Lieutenant Commander Scott tapping away on one of the Engineering computer panels. He is facing toward the entrance, but focused on his work.

“Lieutenant Commander Scott, status report,” Spock says, raising his voice to be audible.

Scott has to speak loudly to be heard over the banging and whirring in the background. “The impulse drives may be repairable, but the hull is so compromised we cannae move faster than a quarter impulse anyway, so we’ve focused on repairs to communications and the hull. The radiation leaks are still contained. The external communications arrays are all destroyed or significantly damaged, and I have folk out there now to see what may be done, but they’ll need at least two hours to examine all the arrays, and we’re working on internal repairs to the bits that were overstrained when the hull was damaged, too.”

“Do we know when communications will be restored?”

“If we’re very lucky, perhaps a day. If we arenae so lucky, perhaps five. If we’re very unlucky it may nae be possible. We wilnae know until we have the report on the state of the exterior communication arrays and what’s going on with the replicators. There are some parts we could use, but I cannae make ‘em until the replicators are back online.”

“Understood. Is there anything I can do to assist in the repair work?”

“Nae really, Commander. The repairs are fiddly work in small spaces.  We havenae any more places to put ye in a position to do the work.”

“And the external examinations?”

“Most of the EVA equipment was destroyed in the battle. We dinnae have enough suits.”

“I see. Thank you, Lieutenant Commander,” Spock says evenly. His racing heart swish-swishes more quickly. He must keep moving. He must. He exits Engineering.

“Spock to Kirk.” Nothing happens. The computer isn’t working properly in the passageway outside Engineering. Spock opens his handheld communicator.

“Spock to Kirk.”

“Yes, Commander?”

“The radiation leaks are still successfully contained. The impulse drive may be repairable, but the hull is too compromised to move at more than one quarter impulse, so the Engineering crew have logically chosen to focus on communications and the hull first. Communications may be repaired in as little as twenty-four hours and as many as one hundred twenty, if they can be repaired.”

“If? Whaddya mean, ‘if’?”

“If the exterior communications arrays are too damaged, it may not be possible to restore communications. It may depend on the replicators.”

“Oh. Dear.”

“Captain?”

“Don’t worry about it. Listen, I need to know when the impulse drive will be back online.”

“The Lieutenant Commander did not convey an estimated time in his report.”

“…So ask him?”

“I am no longer in Engineering. My services are not presently required.”

“What?! Spock, if Scotty is being difficult, I can—”

“Negative, Captain, it seems many of our EVA suits were damaged or destroyed during the fight with Nero. I believe the best use of my time at this juncture would be to search the ship for trapped crew. I encountered one on my way to Engineering.”

“Oh, Jesus, Spock, I should have thought of that earlier! Talk to Ensign Mann, we should have as many personnel as we can on this.”

“Affirmative, Captain. Spock out. Spock to Mann.”

Yes, Commander?”

“Ensign Mann, there may be crew trapped in unstable places aboard the ship. We need to begin a search as soon as possible. Please have all crew not already on medical or engineering or bridge detail report to me in Conference Room 3-10 to begin a methodical search. Have you found additional medical personnel?”

“Affirmative, but one isn’t answering comms, and I believe he may be in a portion of the ship where the internal comms aren’t working. I’d like permission to come and join the search personally.”

“Negative. You need to work on duty rosters that take into account our small uninjured crew complement.”

“Yes, Commander,” Mann sighs. “Will there be anything else?”

“How many personnel are missing?”

“Thirty-one. There are also eighteen people who have not been moving on the life signs detectors or responsive to repeated hails in areas where life signs detectors have not failed but communications may have. The ship has not yet been searched in an organized way.”

“Understood. Ensure that one of the crewmembers brings as many communicators as possible.”

“I have some up here. I’ll send Sailor Ó Ciardha.”

* * *

#####  **1703:26 hours (4 hours, 32 minutes and 54 seconds after the destruction of Vulcan)**

“Due to failures in the communications system, we have eighteen nonresponsive crewmembers in whom we still detect life signs. We may also have as many as thirty-one people alive and unable to move in parts of the ship where life signs and communications are both non-functional. Since we can’t be sure of the accuracy of the information we are receiving about what is functional and what is not, we must search through the entire ship manually. Each of you will pair up and take synced communicators, then I will assign each pair two decks.”

“Yes, Commander,” said the crewmembers in unison.

“Lieutenant Kelly, with me.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Ensign Aldenkamp, Sailor Pavlović, Decks 23 and 24; Petty Officer Sinagra, Sailor Krause, Decks 21 and 22; Ensign Sykora, Petty Officer Gonzales, Decks 19 and 20; Ensign Ludwig, Ensign McGowan, Decks 17 and 18; Ensign Ioannidis, Ensign Zahariev, Decks 15 and 16; Lieutenant Hagebak, Ensign Evanson, Decks 13 and 14; Ensign Cavanah, Ensign Jakeman, Decks 11 and 12; Ensign Mondadori, Ensign Turchi, Decks 9 and 10; Ensign Bohn, Sailor Atwood, Decks 7 and 8; Ensign De Fiore, Ensign Poingdestre, Decks 3 and 4; and Lieutenant Enns, Sailor Ó Ciardha, Decks 1 and 2. Lieutenant Kelly and I will search Decks 5 and 6. Use the computer to guide your search for unresponsive individuals where we detect vitals. Do not forget to search the Jefferies tubes and other maintenance areas, but remain cautious. A tube has collapsed with an engineer inside today. Begin with the lower of your assigned decks. Once both decks are complete, move to assist the nearest pair who are not done. Dismissed.”

* * *

#####  **1710:02 hours (4 hours, 39 minutes and 30 seconds after the destruction of Vulcan)**

In the turbolift, Lieutenant Kelly breaks the silence to ask, “Commander, wasn't Deck 6 searched after we left V—” Kelly breaks off and winces. “On our way back to Earth?”

“Negative, but some repairs were made.”

“I see. Computer, are any life signs detected on Deck 6?”

“No information available.” Lieutenant Kelly gives Spock a look that has a 93.8% chance of being worry. His own expression is still perfectly blank.

Spock and the lieutenant exit the turbolift to a perfectly normal looking passageway.

“Can anyone hear me? Hello?” Kelly calls hopefully. There is no response.

Spock tries to listen to his surroundings carefully (an activity normally best avoided near Humans), but cannot focus over the sound of his heart beating. This is illogical. “Lieutenant, we should continue our search. I'll move through the Jefferies tubes, you continue through the normal passageway.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Spock climbs into the tube that runs above the passageway and immediately hears something. He listens carefully, and though his heart is still overwhelmingly loud, this crying is loud enough to hear over it. The lights have not come on, so he pulls the penlight from his belt and turns it on wide beam. Then he opens his communicator. “Lieutenant.”

“Commander?”

“I can hear crying from here. I believe it is aft and port of here. We should proceed in that direction.”

“Yes, Commander.”

After several minutes of moving carefully through the ship, Kelly comms Spock. “Commander?”

“Lieutenant?”

“There's a blocked section here. Looks like Engineering closed it due to a hull breach.”

“The tube is still passable; you'll have to enter through it. Wait for my order. I will pass through before you enter to minimize the strain on the tubes.”

“Standing by.”

Spock carefully continues crawling through the tube, avoiding putting weight on the entry ports above the breached section. Finally, he gets to a port that hasn't been covered in caution tape. Given the change in volume and sound quality, there is a 95.3% chance the crying originates in the room below. He opens the port and in the same instant that it opens, the sound ceases. Looking into the debris-cluttered storage room below offers no obvious signs of sentient presence. He carefully lowers himself out of the tube and onto the deck. He looks around, but there is still no clear evidence of a person being present.

“Lieutenant Kelly, the tube is now clear. Do not put your weight on the blocked ports. The sound appears to have originated here, but it has stopped and I have not yet found the source. I will continue to investigate while you make your way here.”

“On my way.”

Spock begins to inspect the room in earnest, stepping over a toppled stack of crates of uniforms to look underneath stacks of crates that have fallen into each other and left a gap where someone might hide, though they would have to be very small indeed for an _Enterprise_ crewmember. Spock spots a pair of brown eyes staring at him out of ~~the mirror~~ the darkness between the crates. Spock peers down in front of the crates and finds a child with pointed ears, who, presumably realizing they have been spotted, has closed their eyes and curled into a tighter ball inside the Starfleet issue blanket they have wrapped around themself. Judging from their size, they are between five and seven years of age. Spock locks his hands together behind his back and speaks. “Hello, child. I am Spock. What is your name?”

The child does not reply.

“Are you injured?”

Still no response.

“You cannot stay here. It is an unsafe zone. You are presently delaying search-and-rescue work with your illogical,” the child flinches, “disengagement. What is your name?”

“Satek,” the boy whispers in a wavery voice that is barely loud enough to hear, looking up at Spock with wide, terrified, ~~Human~~ eyes. Spock’s left little finger taps the lower edge of his right palm—the tiniest of motions, nearly imperceptible, but an unacceptable lack of control over bodily responses all the same.

“Are you injured?”

“No, _osu [ 1 ]."_

“How did you get here?”

“I went through the tubes, _osu."_

“This is an extremely illogical,” Satek flinches again, “course of action.”

“I know,” he mumbles into the blanket.

“You must return to the lounge immediately.”

“Yes, _osu."_ Satek looks straight at Spock as he says it, and it seems like his eyes are begging Spock to take it back.

“Commander?” interrupts Lieutenant Kelly.

“Satek has chosen to abandon the areas designated for the refugees to come here, but he is uninjured. We need to…” in a sudden deviation from his original intent, Spock says, “continue our work, so this boy will have to follow us.”

The lieutenant’s expression has 92.1% probability of being concerned. “Er, if you say so. What next?”

“There are passageways on this side of the blockage, as well as tubes. I will return to the Jefferies tubes, and you will continue on the deck with Satek.”

“I should go in the tubes.” Satek says suddenly.

“Excuse me?” asks Lieutenant Kelly in a tone that has an 85.2% probability of indicating disbelief.

“You, you came through one at a time, presumably because the tubes are delicate after the stresses the ship has withstood. I’m far lighter than either of you. I’m the perfect person to do it.”

“Very well,” says Spock. “Take this communicator and report—”

“Commander, I must protest! This child can’t be more than eight Standard at the outside! This is one of the most dangerous areas on the ship! He needs to be returned to his parents immediately!” Lieutenant Kelly shuts her mouth with a snap as she realizes what she just said. She takes a breath in to speak again when Satek bursts into tears.

 _"This is inappropriate, especially in front of an outworlder. Stop this display at once."_ Spock says without inflection in Golic.

Satek silences himself instantly. _"I apologize,_ osu. _Please allow me to assist in your search,"_  he replies in the same language.

 _“I will permit it.”_ Spock says in Golic. He returns to Standard so the lieutenant will understand, “Take this communicator and continue aftward in the tubes above the passageway.”

Lieutenant Kelly looks at Spock in a way that has a 79.6% chance of being her version of the look Humans get when they’re on the edge of disobeying orders. He estimates an 85.3% chance she will attempt something illogical very soon. “Vulcan culture is very different from Human. We must continue searching. I estimate a 22.46 percent chance there is at least one injured crewmember on this deck. Move out, that’s an order.”

“This is barbaric, Commander.”

“Lieutenant, this is not a debate. I said ‘move out’.”

“Yes, Commander,” she says in a tone that has a 97.7% chance of being insubordinate and follows Spock into the next passageway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should show translations if you have Creator's Style turned off.
> 
> Please note that words are only translated in the end notes once per chapter, even if they're used more than once.  
>  1\. honored person [return]


	3. James T. Kirk 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated for fancy translation 2018-10-04.

####  **Stardate 2258.42 (Thursday, February 11th, 2258 CE), 1645 hours**

Kirk steps out of the storage room. “Computer, directional ligh—”

“Mann to Captain Kirk!”

“Yes, Ensign?”

“Good news, Captain! The aeroponics lab brought seeds and small plants aboard to begin the environmental control and General Order 35 garden a few weeks ago! We should have some edible plants aboard there!”

“Okay. Is anyone still alive assigned to that lab?”

“Yes. Lieutenant Commander Carol Marcus.”

“Carol's here?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. She must be thrilled about that.”

“Captain?”

“Nothing, Ensign. Anything else I should know?”

“I'd recommend you just talk to her.”

“Thank you, Mann. Comm me if you have anything further to report.”

“I will. Mann out.”

Kirk reenters the storage room and leans against the wall. “Kirk to Lieutenant Commander Carol Marcus.”

“Hmm?”

“Lieutenant Commander Marcus, are you alone?”

“Jim, I hardly think this is the time—“

“Not what I meant. I am capable of focusing—”

“Oh, I know.”

“On my _job,_ Lieutenant Commander, which this is. Are. You. Alone?”

“Yes. What’s this about?”

“First, I need you to understand this is top secret. Ensign Mann knows, and I'll be briefing Spock when I can, but until I can announce a solution, this needs to be kept under wraps.”

“I understand.”

“Our replication material is gone, and we somehow only have two cases of Human rations and one of Vulcan ones.”

“That isn’t good.”

“No, it isn’t. What do you have that is edible?”

“Well, our plants are a mix of high-yield oxygenators and edible plants, when possible both, so there are a number of viable possibilities, but they’re all pretty small plants still. If we take too much now, we won’t have enough to produce more later. Perhaps more importantly, the artificial oxygenation and purification system is intended to work in tandem with a functional impulse drive—the strong electromagnetic field involved helps to cleanse it so it can continue processing carbon dioxide and other atmospheric impurities. Without a functional impulse drive, they will fail in a matter of weeks, and these plants constitute our only renewable oxygenation resource.”

“What is your recommendation?”

“I need to know more about when we can expect to have a functional impulse drive, and about how many people we need to feed.”

A voice comes in over Kirk’s handheld comm. “Spock to Kirk.”

Krik opens his communicator. “Yes, Commander?”

“The radiation leaks are still successfully contained. The impulse drive may be repairable, but the hull is too compromised to move at more than one-quarter impulse, so the Engineering crew have logically chosen to focus on communications and the hull first. Communications may be repaired in as little as twenty-four hours and as many as one hundred and twenty, if they can be repaired.”

“ ‘If’? Whaddya mean, ‘if’?”

“If the exterior communications arrays are too damaged, it may not be possible to restore communications. It may depend on the replicators.”

“Oh. Dear.”

“Captain?”

“Don’t worry about it. Listen, I need to know when the impulse drive will be back online.”

“Engineer Scott did not convey an estimated time in his report.”

“…So ask him?”

“I am no longer in Engineering. My services are not presently required.”

“What?! Spock, if Scotty is being difficult, I can—”

“Negative, Captain, it seems many of our EVA suits were damaged or destroyed during the fight with Nero. I believe the best use of my time at this juncture would be to search the ship for trapped crew. I encountered one on my way to Engineering.”

“Oh, shit, I should have thought of that earlier! Talk to Ensign Mann, we should have as many personnel as we can on this.”

“Affirmative, Captain. Spock out.”

“Computer, add Lieutenant Commander Scott to existing communication with Lieutenant Commander Marcus. Scotty!”

“Aye, Captain?”

“When will the impulse drive be back online?”

“I dinnae know. Longer if ye keep interrupting me!”

“Scotty, I need you to get somewhere private for a moment.”

“Captain, I dinnae have the time right now—”

“Now, Scotty. It’s important.”

“It better be. Just a mo’, then.” Several moments pass in silence. “There we are, then. What’s so urgent?”

“We have no replication material and hardly any rations, and our aeroponics lab is barely started. We need to know when the oxygenation system will be fully online again.

“I forgot the garden here would be in a sorry state. I’ll switch my focus from the hull to the impulse drive, but the core was pretty well crisped. I dinnae know what will be possible. We may need to look into alternative magnetic field sources.”

“When will you know more?”

“I should be able to give ye an idea in two hours.”

“Thank you, Scotty. Kirk out.”

“So, there’s your information. What’s your recommendation, Lieutenant Commander?”

“I still need to know about our numbers.”

“Computer, add Ensign Mann to existing communication with Lieutenant Commander Marcus. Ensign?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“How many people are we feeding right now?”

“A total of five hundred twelve to five hundred forty-three. That’s three hundred fifty-nine Vulcans and one hundred forty to one hundred fifty-three Humans, three to seven Tellarites, two to four Andorians, two to four Lesathi, two or three Butterfish, one or two Fryk, a Dexter, a Klurd, and a Human-Vulcan hybrid. It all depends on how many of the missing are found.”

“Thank you, Ensign. Any further luck finding food?”

“No. Commander Spock said I should work on shift schedules, and I don’t think I’m getting anywhere on the food thing.”

“Then move on to schedules.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Dismissed, Ensign.”

“So, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Start dividing up food into the smallest chunks you can and be ready to ration it out. Humans can survive on less than you’d think—” Kirk stands up ramrod straight as if stung and tries to clench his fists again, resisting another wince when his broken hands protest. “And Vulcans are even hardier. It’s best to wait for now and see what Engineering comes up with. I can start growing as many new plants as I can with what I have.”

“Fine.” Kirk’s tone is trying for even, but edges into fury anyway.

“Jim, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Get started.”

“ ‘Nothing’, my foot. Jim, please—”

“It’s ‘Captain’, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Fine, then, _Captain_. It’s hard to work things out if you won’t talk to people, you know!”

“Kirk. Out.” He breathes deeply for a few minutes in the silence, rebuilding his composure, then exits the storage room “Computer, directional lights to water storage.”

* * *

“Kirk to Mann.”

“Captain?”

“All good in water storage.”

“That’s excellent!”

“We’re going to have to wait another couple of hours to make any meaningful decisions on the food issue, so we’ll hold off on announcing anything for now. If people ask, say we’re working on the issue and should have some answers soon. While we wait, what happened with the blankets?”

“…Er, well, Captain, I may have sorta…”

“Spit it out, Ensign.”

“Completelyforgottenaboutit?”

“I see. Well, I guess I’m as good a person as any to perform the check. Where are they stored?”

“Storage Room 6-2, Captain. The computer is out in the entire deck, so make sure you have your handheld comm.”

“Will do, Mann. Kirk out.”

* * *

Kirk is making his way through a section of blocked ports in the Jefferies tubing between him and blanket storage on Deck 6, light stuck between his fingers, lips thinning a little further every time he puts his weight on his hands again, when he hears someone crawling up into the tubes ahead of him, seemingly headed further into the deck. Kirk’s face tightens and he speeds up. “Hey, who’s there?” The person ahead of him either stops or begins to move much more quietly, but does not respond. Kirk rushes forward and sees a very small individual just past an open port, presumably the one through which they entered the tubes. “Hello? Are you able to speak?”

“Yes,” says a very small, shaky voice.

“Turbolift is the other way… Oh my God, you’re one of the Vulcan kids,” says Kirk when he sees the child clearly. “Are you—of course not. Hey, look at me.” The kid turns around slowly and carefully, and though they avert their eyes, it's clear they've been crying.

“This isn’t a safe place, kiddo. Why are you here?”

“I am assisting Commander Spock with the rescue efforts.”

“Commander Spock brought you down here? Not only that, but he left you alone? I’ll kill him.”

“No, _osu [ 1 ],_ he found me down here. It would be very illogical to attempt to harm the Commander; he is much stronger than you.”

“And he left you alone because?”

“I volunteered to search these tubular areas due to my lesser weight being less of a risk to their structural integrity.”

“And you’re telling me that Commander Spock allowed this?”

“Affirmative, _osu."_

“Kirk to Spock.” The communicator in Satek’s pocket lights up. “Please tell me you stole that.”

“I did not.”

“Great. How was giving you the comm supposed to help?”

“I can call Lieutenant Kelly’s comm with it.”

“I see.” Kirk grabs his own comm from his belt and flips it open. “Kirk to Kelly.”

“Captain, the Commander has authorized a child to assist with the search, and I would like to register my extremely strong objections!”

“Spock, what the hell were you thinking? This kid needs, like, support, not to wander around in unstable territory!"

“Satek is correct that he is far lighter than any Starfleet crewmember, and therefore suited to this work.”

“He said he could stay before Satek suggested going into the Jefferies Tubes, Captain.”

“So what was it, really?”

“The child clearly had no wish to return to his peers, and to return him would have delayed us considerably. Since I do not know if there may be injured persons here who might deteriorate while we did so, it was only logical to permit him to assist.”

“That is utter crap, Spock. This kid can’t be more than five—”

“Six,” corrected Satek

“He’s six. That’s so much better. I’m taking the kid back to Deck 4. We’ll discuss this when the ship has been fully searched, Commander. We’ll leave your comm in the Jefferies tube at Storage Room 6-2. Kirk out.” He shuts his comm hard. “Satek, is it?”

“Yes.”

“Leave Spock’s comm there—Blankets, I came down here to look at blankets. I’ll go down into the storage room and look, and you wait here a minute.”

“I can give you an inventory, _osu."_

“Great! Tell me.”

“There are about forty large crates in the room, several of which have toppled over and a few of which have smashed open, but all the contents of the smashed crates seem to be soft things that have a high probability of still being usable.”

“That should be enough. Let’s get you out of here. Follow me.” Kirk carefully leads Satek past the blocked-off ports, still tight-lipped, and climbs down the ladder at the port he entered by, wincing. “C’mon down, kid. I’ll spot you.”

“That is hardly necessary, Captain, it’s barely two meters and I am certainly capable of climbing down a ladder.”

“Humor the Human, kid. Come on.” Satek begins his climb down the ladder and trips on the edge of his robes. Kirk catches him and he unexpectedly gloms onto his arms with near-bruising strength when Kirk tries to set him down. “Satek? Hey buddy, what’s going on?” When Kirk stops trying to put him down, Satek wriggles around in his grip until he’s resting his face in the crook of Kirk’s neck and begins to cry. Kirk backs up against the wall and lets himself slide down along it to a sitting position, stroking Satek’s back soothingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should show translations if you have Creator's Style turned off.
> 
> Please note that words are only translated in the end notes once per chapter, even if they're used more than once.  
>  1\. honored person [return]


	4. Satek 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated for fancy translation 2018-10-04.  
> So, it's been nearly a year. I'm very sorry. Thank brother M., friends M. and P., and beta transcoranic for this getting done literally ever.

###  **Stardate 2258.42**

#####  **1732:38 hours (5 hours, 2 minutes and 6 seconds after the destruction of Vulcan)**

Satek is crying and invading personal space and an outworlder can see him and he cannot get himself under control and and everything is gone, gone, gone. His breathing is shallow, and despite every hour spent on meditative breathing in his classes, he cannot force his diaphragm to move as it should any more than he can let the captain put him down or stop the wasteful, illogical flow of tears into his shoulder. The captain is rubbing Satek’s back in little circles. Satek can feel him talking, but cannot hear what he says over his own breathing. His stomach hurts, and sensation is out of focus. Everything around him seems almost like a hallucination. How can any of this be happening? (An illogical question.) Just five hours, five minutes, and fifty-eight seconds ago, he was studying meditation with his brother. Then the emergency alerts began to sound, and then, and then (“Stay here, Satek. I will go help the youngest students evacuate.” “There is no time! Please!” The white shimmer of the transporter beam blocks his vision, and he is gone.) The only thing that seems real when nothing else does is the contact between his face and the captain’s shoulder (an unconscionable invasion of privacy) and projected calm concern and the worry underneath (and, shoved deeper under that, a cold, bitter dread) that Satek feels through it. He has never felt emotions from another so strongly before. He still cannot reestablish control. His breathing is too fast, too shallow, and there is not enough air and he is so, so cold, and he must be dying, because his throat is closing and he cannot breathe and Vulcan is gone and it is only logical that he go with it. But somehow he is still alive. His breathing begins to slow and the tears to subside, and he eventually notices that the captain is facing down at Satek, but his eyes appear, illogically, to be focused at a point three meters behind and below Satek, well under the durasteel flooring, though to his knowledge Human vision cannot see through durasteel. Captain Kirk is also humming. The tune is unfamiliar to Satek, but it is beautiful and sad. Once Satek is able to speak, he quickly searches for something, anything to speak of that might distract from his shame. “Can Humans see through durasteel, _osu [ 1]?”_

The captain startles and refocuses his vision onto Satek. “What?” Captain Kirk asks, blinking twice in the same second, pulling down his eyebrows, partially closing his eyes, and turning down his lips, “No. Where did that even come from?”

“You appeared to be looking at something approximately three meters behind and below me. There is a durasteel floor between us and whatever you were viewing.”

The captain turns up his lips a little and allows his eyebrows to relax, then exhales on a sound Satek cannot identify and tries to move his arm up toward his face, causing Satek to notice he is still sitting in the captain’s lap and clutching at his arms. Satek stands as rapidly as possible and stands erect with his hands behind his back, as is proper. “Then what were you doing, Captain?”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you fee—doing better now?”

“I am well now, _\ osu._ I apologise for my inappropriate outburst.” Satek resists the temptation to allow his head to fall forward so he will not have to look at the captain while speaking of this matter.

Kirk turns his lips down at Satek. “You didn't do anything wrong. C’mon, I have to get you back to the rest of the Vulcans.”

“Could I help you?” (Satek did not consciously decide to say that. It does not make sense.)

The captain studies Satek for fourteen seconds, head turned a little to the side, one side of his mouth curved up, eyebrows raised.

“If I take you back, you're just going to run off again, aren't you?”

“I…” Satek pauses. For the first time, he almost sees logic in lying; if he told Captain Kirk that he would stay with the group, he could surely escape again. But that would only lead to another search and even more shame. Lying is illogical. “Will not remain there.”

For a moment, the captain turns up his lips more than Satek has seen before. “Then we'll have to find a way to keep you busy that doesn't involve structurally compromised areas. Now let's get off this deck.” Captain Kirk moves to the turbolift and presses the call button, which does nothing. His lips turn down. “Crap.” He pulls out his comm. “Kirk to Mann.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“I need you to call the turbolift to Deck 6. The call button is dead.”

“Captain, I don't have authorization to move the turbolift remotely.”

“Then you’ll have to come down.”

“On my way, Captain.”

“See you soon, Ensign. Kirk out.” The captain closes his comm with care and returns it to his belt and is quiet for nineteen seconds. “I suppose if I said I was sorry for how boring this is, you would inform me that Vulcans do not experience boredom?”

“Yes, _osu._ It is the truth.”

“Of course it is.” The captain says nothing more, but starts bouncing backward and forward on his feet. Satek raises an eyebrow at him.

“What is the purpose of this activity?”

“You may not be bored, but I certainly am!” Captain Kirk says it with his mouth upturned and teeth showing, eyebrows neutral. After seven seconds he comes to a very sudden stop, then says “I should warn Spock about this. When he says the commander's name, the captain's mouth tightens. He pulls his comm off his belt and opens it again. “Captain Kirk to Commander Spock.”

“Captain?”

“Commander, the exterior turbolift controls on this deck are broken. You will need someone to come to this deck to let you out.”

“Understood, Captain.”

“Notify me when you're done here. We need to talk, Commander.”

“Captain, I assure—”

“Commander Spock, tell me when you are done here, that's an order. Kirk out.” The captain closes his comm forcefully and exhales slowly, returning the device to his belt.

“ _osu ,_ are you well?”

“I'm fine, Satek, don't worry about me.” Captain Kirk turns up his lips, though his brows remain pulled down.

“Vulcans do not experience ‘worry’. You need not concern yourself with my emotional state.”

The captain looks at Satek with eyebrows pulled up for six seconds before speaking. “Sure, kid, whatever you say.” His mouth curves further up in a thin line for a moment before falling back into a downturned state. After four seconds of silence, the captain turns up his lips as the turbolift opens on a Human wearing a red Starfleet uniform shirt with long sleeves and the standard black undershirt with a single round black silver-edged pip at the neck on the right and accompanying dark grey pants. They are approximately 1.7 meters in height and are between seventeen and twenty-five Standard years old, with pale skin and dark hair. Their lips are turned up. “Ensign Sam Mann, I presume?”

The person’s lips quickly turn down after the captain speaks. _“Samantha_ Mann, please, Captain. I dislike the shorter versions of my first name.”

“Sure thing, Ensign,” the captain says. Instead of her lips turning fully up again, Ensign Mann’s face goes to a more normal neutral. “This boy is Satek. Satek, this woman is Ensign Samantha Mann, our personnel officer. Mann, the storage room has roughly forty crates of blankets within, all of which should be usable. I don't trust that tube to hold the weight of that much stuff though, so I'm not sure how to get it moved.”

“My apologies, _osu ,_ I spoke imprecisely earlier; some of the crates contain uniforms and the like, but one of the broken ones definitely had blankets.”

“Oh, well. I guess I’ll have to go back—”

“That would be illogical, _osu , _because it is dangerous and there are already personnel in the area. It seems certain that it would be most logical to transport the entire contents of the room with the cargo transporter in any case.”

The ensign looks at Satek for three seconds, one side of her mouth curved up, eyebrows raised. “You know, that could work, once we can be certain all personnel are off the deck.”

The captain nods. “It's our best shot. Spock will let us know when the search is complete. Let's get out of here.” Captain Kirk and Satek step into the turbolift and the ensign hovers a finger over the button for Deck 4, then looks at the captain, raises her eyebrows, and waits. The captain nods, and she presses the button.

* * *

#####  **1748:50 hours (5 hours, 18 minutes and 18 seconds after the destruction of Vulcan)**

As they exit the turbolift, Satek hears many sounds. The medical bay is twenty meters down the corridor, and there are many people there, making a cacophony that makes it difficult to hear anything else, but his ears pick up distressed noises, perhaps crying, from the opposite direction.

“Captain, I hear noises of distress coming from roughly fifteen meters that way.” Satek points down the corridor and slightly to the left.

“Direct me as we get closer, then,” Captain Kirk says, putting himself ahead of Satek. At first he does not see the logic, but then he realizes this is the captain’s attempt to protect him. Satek focuses on the soft sounds, and hears words from the same direction, but cannot make them out. As they get closer, the sounds become clearer. Someone is saying “Hey, can you hear me? Hey! You aren’t authorized to use this room.” The person’s volume is rising and their words are growing sharper. The captain seems to hear as well, and starts moving more quickly. As they reach the door, the person says “I’m going to tap you on the shoulder now.” Then the door opens. The room is an observation lounge. One wall is all viewscreen that’s programmed to show the view outside the ship. Directly in front of that screen, there is a Human approximately 1.9 meters in height wearing a long-sleeved blue uniform shirt beginning to tap a 1.5 meter tall Vulcan on the shoulder from behind. The Vulcan flinches and whirls, grabbing the officer’s hand and turning to push them away. The Vulcan presses too hard for the officer’s weak Human bones, and their wrist breaks with a snapping sound as they tumble to the ground.

“Hey! What is happening here?” the captain strides over to the two beings and the Vulcan woman—Satek can see the cut and color of her robes now—’s head snaps up and her eyes go wide, her breathing rapid. She stumbles back and scuttles along the observation screen to the far corner of the room, crouching down as though to become smaller. The crumpled form on the floor is curling onto their side, holding the broken right arm with the left as though to protect it.

“Ensign De Fiore, what the hell just happened?”

“Captain, you saw it, I tapped the kid on the shoulder and they just flipped out.”

“What the hell made you think you should touch a Vulcan who clearly doesn't know you're there today of all days, De Fiore?” Captain Kirk speaks quickly, eyebrows pulled down, jaw tight and looking directly at De Fiore. His voice is quiet, but illogically seems loud.

“Um, I—”

The captain walks past the ensign as he says, “We’ll discuss this later. Inform your search partner that you will be going to Medical on your way out.”

“Yes, Captain.” Satek has to jump out of De Fiore’s way to avoid being knocked over. The captain motions Satek to come closer, waves him toward the observation screen and crouches down right next to it. Satek realizes that he wishes to leave the woman an escape route. With the two of them right up against the edge of the deck, a straight line from her to the exit is clear. The captain looks at Satek and motions toward the woman, and Satek realizes the captain wishes him to speak to her.

“Hello. I am Satek. This is Captain Kirk. Will you tell us what happened here?”

Silence. The captain tries, “Hello, I am Captain James Kirk. What brings you here?” His voice is quiet, slow, utterly different from the tone he used with Ensign De Fiore. The captain’s lips turn down again after the girl does not speak. “You don’t seem to be injured, but I don’t like this. Satek, try in Golic.”

“All Vulcan children learn Federation Standard—“ Captain Kirk puts up a hand.

“Please humor me, Satek.” Satek greets the woman again in Golic to no avail.

“Can you think of any reason why this is happening? Is this, like, a thing?”

Satek raises a brow in puzzlement. “Please clarify, _osu.” _

“Does this happen normally, do Vulcan teenagers just kind of,” the captain waves a hand about vaguely, “go all silent like that?”

“That is not a standard Vulcan behavior.”

The captain nods. “I can’t sit here all day.” He takes his communicator from his belt. “Captain Kirk to Commander Spock.”

“Captain? We are not yet ready to leave the deck.”

“Yeah, well, make it snappy. I have a Vulcan here, I think a teenager, who just broke a guy’s arm for startling them and won’t speak. I even had Satek ask in Golic. Medical is busy, I don’t want to bring Security into this unless absolutely necessary, and if I get the Council people in here they’ll want Satek too and I don’t think that will go well. I need you here.”

“Understood, Captain. Search of this deck will be completed in approximately four point five standard minutes. I expect to arrive in eight. Spock out.” The comm goes quiet.

The captain moves his shoulders up toward his head and back down, a motion that seems to be intended to communicate something, though Satek has no theory as to what. “Well then. We wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should show translations if you have Creator's Style turned off.
> 
> Please note that words are only translated in the end notes once per chapter, even if they're used more than once.  
>  1\. honored person [return]


	5. Spock 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated for fancy translation 2018-10-05.  
> Thanks to transcoranic, without which the plot of this chapter wouldn't exist. PLEASE NOTE UPDATED TAGS, lots of new and shiny potential triggers, this chapter gets nasty.  
> Many thanks to the folks at the Vulcan Language Dictionary.

###  **Stardate 2248.42**

#####  **1800:44 hours (5 hours, 30 minutes and 12 seconds after the destruction of Vulcan)**

Spock’s lips tighten just a fraction, another lapse in control, his finger tapping his palm again as he approaches the door to the place to which he has been summoned. He is experiencing a certain illogical degree of… apprehension. When he enters the room, Satek and the captain are seated in chairs on the near side of the room, clearly chosen to leave as much space between them and the door as possible. The young woman in question is still in the corner, unresponsive. _“Young woman, what is your name?”_ Spock asks in Golic, stepping into her field of vision. She does not respond in any way. He moves closer. _“You are behaving illogically. Why are you in this location?”_ He is now one meter away from her and stops. _“This conduct is unacceptable, particularly in the presence of an outworlder. Respond.”_ The young woman compresses herself further into the corner.

“You’re scaring them, Commander. This isn’t helping,” the captain interjects from across the room.

“You do not understand the Vulcan way, Captain.”

Captain Kirk stands and moves closer to Spock and the young woman, careful to stay close to the wall, leaving something of an escape route between the two of them, though in fact the probability that the Vulcan could escape the two of them is approximately 1.2 percent. “Spock, if I wanted someone to come yell at them, I would have asked Elder T’Pau to send someone.”

“I did not yell.”

The captain rolls his eyes. “You may not have been loud, but that tone was _definitely_ yelling. The kid is in distress! They need help, not a lecture.”

“As the definition of ‘yell’ is ‘a loud, sharp cry’, I fail to see the logic of your statement.”

The captain waves his hands in the air in a fashion that has a 91.5% probability of being exasperated. “Spock, come on!”

“She is old enough to have appropriate control.”

Captain Kirk raises his eyebrows, staring at Spock. “Really. This is what you’re going with. After what happened on the bridge? Really!?”

“The Vulcan way—”

“Would have lost Earth and probably the rest of the Federation. Spock, this is a day for new things.”

Spock stiffens. His shoulders tighten and his heart swishes louder. For a moment, he cannot speak. He breathes deeply for a few moments. “This is a day to ensure my people do not lose—” His voice breaks on the word. Unacceptable. He ignores it. “…what little is left of who we are. Even in crises, we must have control.”

The young woman’s eyes snap into focus, and she looks at Spock. An emotion he cannot identify shadows her face for a moment before it goes stiff and unreadable, a parody of a properly emotionless expression that nevertheless does not reveal the woman’s thoughts. She stands. _“I apologize for my inappropriate behavior, osu[ 1 ]. I will return to the rest of our people now.” _ Her voice trembles, and so do her hands. The words are accented oddly. The enunciation is not what one would expect of a native speaker. Even if her parents had been posted elsewhere, every Vulcan learns Golic first, and though occasionally Standard or another local language will be learned alongside it, no Vulcan parent would allow such a strange accent to develop.

“Where are you from?” Spock is asking the question before he even realizes it, curiosity taking over, stepping forward

The woman raises one eyebrow slightly, and her mouth makes the slightest move toward a smirk. “Eyphus II, among other places, _ osu.” _

Spock raises an eyebrow of his own. “A Romulan planet.”

“I am a Romulan.”

Kirk frowns and crosses his arms. “What is a Romulan teenager doing on Vulcan?”

The adolescent stares at the captain for eight seconds, then her eyes flicker to Spock, then back to Kirk. “Being experimented upon, then forced to abandon my culture and identity.” Kirk takes a step closer to the woman, frowning in concern.

Spock raises an eyebrow. “Vulcans do not practice such activities.”

“You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you?” The woman’s hands snap out and find the psi points on Spock and the captain’s faces with remarkable speed, and then…

_My thoughts to your thoughts…_

Saavik:

_You are twelve, and you have been on this cold ship for too long. The place smells of unwashed sentient and other, less pleasant things. You are huddled up with other young people, trying to stay warm, cursing yourself for ending up in this mess, when two Vulcans enter with the Orion running this little operation. The Orion is speaking to them in Standard. “See, this lot are fresh-caught and healthy! No problems like the last batch! And fully fifty-four of them are halflings!”_

_The Vulcans nod. “We accept the merchandise.” And…_

_The Vulcans hardly look at you as they tattoo you with some kind of machine readable mark. Tears fall down your cheeks. One of them says in an utter monotone, “It’s crying. Interesting. A half-breed ought to have more control.”_

_The other replies, “The half-breeds are almost entirely Romulan. I find it troubling that they are even allowed to exist. Such things have no place in the universe—” The words echo in your minds, and—_

Jim:

_You are thirteen, and hiding. “I know you’re in here.” You are barely breathing, head spinning, trying to keep exhausted muscles still. “Come on. Your survival is killing real people. Allergy-ridden, criminal scraps of humanity like you have no place in this universe—”_

Spock:

_You are eleven, and you just want to be left alone. “You are neither Human nor Vulcan, and therefore have no place in this universe.”_

_The words echo into the blank nonspace between your minds for a time. Then…_

_‘What the_ fuck _just happened?’_ Jim wants to know.

 _‘I believe Saavik attempted to show us evidence of their claims, but lost control of the meld when a sentence that… resonated… with both of us came up.’_ Spock is trying to come off calm and failing miserably.

 _‘But this time I will do better.’_ Saavik is determined. _And…_

_You are twelve, and the room is too bright and very cold. You are cold. You are wearing dingy white, curled in the corner, trying to think. All you need is a little power. A little boost. You are kept away from the others physically, but the walls are thin. If you can communicate without being noticed, it might be enough. You put your head up against the wall as though relaxing into it, and think at your neighbor in Romulan. And…_

_They’re distracted today. It’s time. You think it at Taykar, your neighbor, and you can feel him passing the message around. When all of you think together, it might be enough. HELP US, you scream together into the void. Stellar coordinates 289.3892.23.80. Your nose begins to bleed; you ignore it. HELP! Stellar coordinates 289.3892.23.80. You fall out of the light meld as everything fades away. And…_

_The room is still too bright and very cold. You are curled in the corner, waiting, desperate… someone will come. Your plan worked. It has to work. You can hear the others. Mirani is in the next cell over. She has maybe a day, if they keep her isolated. Mirani is only small. You told them. They don’t listen. A scratchy noise announces the use of the intercom. “Subject 146—” the sounds cut off, and you hear in the distance unfamiliar sounds. Nothing unfamiliar has happened in such a long time. And…_

_“What is your name?” A tall Vulcan who neglected to introduce himself demands in a snappish tone once you are aboard the ship that will take you somewhere that is not here._

_“I am Saavik,” you reply._

_“You are the one the rogue scientists referred to as Subject 146?”_

_“Yes,” you snap._

_“Your family will be gratified to meet you when we arrive at Vulcan, child. Are you aware you are the daughter of Sekek?”_

_“I know that Sekek contributed half of my DNA. I have no interest in meeting my Vulcan family. I want to go home.”_

_“Impossible. A child of Vulcan cannot be allowed to remain in the hands of Romulans. The things they must have done to you!”_

_“I. Want. To. Go. Home!”_

_“Vulcan is your home. In time you will see that.” And…_

_“I am not a girl, or a boy,” you tell the Vulcan who has taken charge of you until you arrive at Vulcan. “It would be illogical to continue using gendered pronouns for me.”_

_“Vulcans cannot be without gender. You will understand once you have learned how to be Vulcan.”_

_“I am half-Romulan.”_

_“That disadvantage can be overcome if you work hard enough.”_

_“That is not the point. Please refer to me without gender.”_

_“No. It is un-Vulcan. Desist.” And…_

_“In order to help you adjust to life on Vulcan after a lifetime in the hands of the enemy, you will be enrolled for as long as necessary in a special school that will teach you about how to be a Vulcan. Of course, your Romulan names will have to be shed along with your old lives. Subject 102, your name is now T’Pel, Subject 105, your name is now Sivek…” your mouth goes dry. You aren’t even going to be allowed your own names. This will be no improvement. You begin to cry. Mirani, who lays too-quiet in your arms, cries too. Almost everyone is crying before long. The Vulcans ignore it. “...Subject 146, your name is now T’Pem.” They can call you ‘T’Pem’, but they’ll have to make you answer to it—_ For a moment, all is blurry and indistinct, and something changes. A fourth presence is within the meld. Saavik’s determination to continue whirls you all back into their vision in a blink _—You are holding onto Mirani, clutching her, and the Vulcans are Not Happy. Angry, not that they’d admit it. You hold onto her and whisper your care in Romulan. You’ve backed into a corner—there’s nowhere else to go—and you can’t fight them and hold onto Mirani at the same time. One hyposprays you in the neck, and they catch the baby as she slips from your suddenly limp arms—_

Satek:

_“Satek! T’Paik! This behavior is shameful! Cease immediately. If you do not follow instructions, you will be forcibly separated.”_

_You are five, and you will hold on. You and your best-friend-sister-family are holding each other tightly. Her brother is dead. Her brother is dead and she is crying, and both of you find comfort in being so close._

_Arms grab both of you, and you clutch at each other until a hypospray makes all your limbs go limp. You are laid down on the ground for a time. And…_

_“This pattern of behaviour cannot be rewarded. Both must be sent for reeducation before they do permanent psychic damage to each other.”_

_“Of course, oko-savensu [ 2 ] T’Pan. I will inform my wife.” Your father’s voice is as emotionless as ever. A painful sensation you have never experienced before arises in your side, as though your heart was somehow damaged. You do not know why. And… _

_You have never been in a Learning Zone like this one before. The staircase disappears and the walls are steeper. “You are here because you have poor telepathic control and nearly initiated a bond on your own. Do you understand?” the computer asks._

_“Yes.” You try to keep your tone even, but it is still hideously emotional. Your side still hurts, and you wonder if you are ill._

_“The first portion of this educational module is a guided meditation. Please sit and close your eyes. Envision…” the computer goes on to describe in detail a vision of one’s internal self, but you cannot follow it. You sit there alone, and you cannot quite manage to want what you should. You want to want to learn how to be a true Vulcan, you want to satisfy your family. But you still want more than anything to see your sister-in-all-but-name (whatever they wanted to say about bonds) again. You hurt more than you ever have in your life, though you are not injured—_

_‘You believe you understand heartbreak?’_ Saavik’s mental presence is raw, biting, angry

 _‘I do not—’_ Satek begins to think, but your minds are already being redirected to Saavik’s purpose.

Saavik:

_“T’Pem, arise!” snaps the voice of the area monitor. You stare at the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge the Vulcan appellation. You have refused to do anything at all since they stopped using your name, besides hold Mirani, and they took her away. They carried you to your bed that first day, and you have remained there. “T’Pem, if you remain obdurate, I will be forced to use drastic measures,” the nasal voice of the monitor continues. You just stare at the ceiling. You hear several people enter, and refuse to acknowledge them. When they try to take you out of the bed, you fight, punching and kicking out at them as much as you can. The attempts are pathetic after so long without anything at all to eat or drink, and before that of too little, but you make them anyway, until a hypospray enters your neck and you lose the ability to move entirely._

_Hands touch your psi points. The foreign presence gives nothing of itself. It is like a desert wind, scraping around your mind, getting in corners, learning everything it cares to know about you. It is gone as quickly as it appeared, and you return to awareness._

_“The child has a mental bond, something she thinks of as a ‘family bond’—as though such things existed—with little T’Lais. I believe if that is broken, they both will become more pliable.” Horror fills you, but you still cannot move._

_“Such a profound shock to the system while they are still so weak could damage both of them.” A tiny ray of hope begins to fill you._

_“Hmm, yes, some time for recovery may be advisable. They must not be allowed to see one another. No more than a week, lest the bond grow stronger. I advise keeping T’Pem on psychic dampeners to lessen it further.” Tears begin to gather in your eyes._

_The paralytic begins to wear off, and you say, in the most unemotional tone you can manage, “I understand that I have been behaving illogically. I will cooperate now.”_

_“She is attempting to prevent us from breaking the bond.”_

_“It may be unnecessary.” The doctor’s tone betrayed an opinion that that was not likely. And…_

_“Please, Elder, I have done everything you have asked of me in the past week. I have learned to meditate, I have completed coursework on the truth of the history of our people, I have cooperated with your mental scans. I am learning to be truly Vulcan. Breaking the bond is unnecessary and may damage T’Lais.” You have tried to lock down the part of you that is afraid down deep, but there is a lump in your throat. You only hope they do not scan you._

_“Such a bond can only damage her ability to form an appropriate bond at the correct age. A bond with one not your telsu[ 3 ] is without logic.” With those dispassionate words, the adept of Gol spreads his fingers over your face and Mirani’s, and begins to search for the bond. You try to block him. You fight with everything you have. You are not certain Mirani can survive another family bond break at her age. The adept blows past your defenses without subtlety or difficulty. Rather than properly uprooting the bond, as is proper, he simply cuts through it, causing it to snap, as with a sudden death. Your scream and Mirani’s echo in your ears and in your mind. Once the adept disconnects from your minds, Mirani is swept up into the arms of another of the endless Vulcans. Tears drip down your face, and you can’t tell if Mirani is breathing, she’s so still— _

Jim:

_You are thirteen, and Klaas isn’t breathing. “Wake up! Klaas, please! Wake up!” His little body is still in your arms. You are in a cave with thirteen—twelve other children. Klaas is barely big enough to walk. He cannot eat hard things, and your attempts to feed him have not been going well. He is the third you’ve lost, but the others fell to guard rifles. The others were only a little younger than you. Tears fall down your cheeks. You’ve been holding him close, trying to share what body warmth you have, but it wasn’t enough._

_“JT?” asks Junia, your eleven-year-old second-in-command, woken by your frantic attempts to wake the toddler._

_“Junia, he’s gone,” you whisper. “He’s gone.” And…_

Saavik:

_You are twelve, and it has been a week since they took Mirani. Your mind-injury is untreated. According to the Vulcans, it doesn’t exist. You wonder if they’re all so crazy because they apparently only have one bond! One! And not until they’re seven! Romulans rarely sustain that few as adults, let alone as children. A baby with no bonds… it boggles the mind._

_“T’Pem, your presence is required,” the area monitor tells you. You drag yourself to your feet, and comply as slowly as you can get away with. You can’t bear to have your mind tampered with again. And…_

_You are thirteen, and you are finally leaving the Reeducation Center. You still do not know if Mirani survived. Your grandmother is here to meet you._

_“So, this is the half-breed my son was forced to sire,” the woman you assume is your grandmother says to the Vulcan supervising your departure, shattering your hopes for an improved living situation. “You have trained it to behave as a proper Vulcan?”_

_“Yes, oko[ 4 ],” replies the Vulcan. _

_“Good. Come along, ko-kan[ 5 ].” You follow, face blank, fuming. _

_“Once we have confirmed your training is without flaw, we will see to it that you are bonded properly, despite your age and… circumstances. A colleague of mine has a son whose telsu died, and owes me a favor. The match is a favorable one for our House, and I expect you to behave appropriately for your future husband.” _

_“Yes, ofa-ko-mekh[ 6 ].” And… _

_You are nervous. You have spent weeks priming your grandfather for this conversation. You sit together in the dining area. Your grandmother is busy today. You have been testing the waters and being as Vulcan as you can. Your heartbeat is quicker than it should be, but you allow no sign of your nerves to show. “ Ofa-sa-mekh[ 7 ], it is illogical to continue calling me ‘T’Pem’. I understand how to be a proper Vulcan now, but I am not a woman. My name is Saavik—” _

_“Silence, ko-kan-kan[ 8 ]. Your statements are illogical. Vulcans do not have gender variations.” _

_“Perhaps I am defective due to my blood, but I am not a man or a woman. Please, ofa-sa-mekh.” _

_“And that sounds like emotion in your tone. Must we return you to the Reeducation Center?”_

_You hate him. You hate them all. The blazing anger hides safe beneath your shields and over a year spent learning how to stop having expressions. “No, ofa-sa-mekh. I will go meditate on my error now.” He nods gravely. You return to your room and turn on the wave sounds you use to meditate, but instead you just cry and cry and cry. And… _

_“I am Somuk.”_

_“I am T’Pem,” you lie to the boy you are about to be bonded to. You have never met before. You know nothing of his character, his ambitions, his anything. His pon farr[ 9 ] may arrive soon, and his clan will tolerate no further delay. _

_“Somuk, son of T’Ler, of the clan of Gami’ta Mrai, do you accept this woman as your bonded, parted from you and never parted, never and always touching and touched, understanding this will draw you together for your Time?”_

_“Yes, T’Pid.”_

_“T’Pem, daughter of Sekek,” there is the tiniest bit of revulsion the woman cannot conceal at someone taking their father’s clan, “of the clan of Maxai S’adeth, do you accept this man as your bonded, parted from you and never parted, never and always touching and touched, understanding this will draw you together for his Time?_

_“Yes, T’Pid.”_

_“Then you must touch one another’s minds.” You both hold out our right arms and touch pinkies and thumbs. T’Pid then puts her fingers on ours, and creates the connection. And…_

_You are fourteen, and you can hear the gong of marriage ring. “This rite comes down from the Time of Awakening, without change. This is the Vulcan heart. This is the Vulcan soul. This is our way. Kah-if-farr[ 10 ].” You dream once more of declaring the kali-fi[ 11 ], with yourself as champion, but if you win, you will never be allowed to go without a Real Vulcan to manage your affairs and keep you on-planet, and Somuk does not deserve to die for this madness. You remain in place, waiting. _

_Somuk rings the gong again._

_“Thou hast chosen the kun-ut van-kal [ 12 ], the marriage. Thou art prepared to comfort and aid your husband in his Time?” _

_“I am prepared.”_

_“T’Pem, thou wilt meet thy husband.”_

_“As it was in the dawn of our days, as it is today, as it will be for all tomorrows, the choice is made. Somuk, son of T’Ler, of the clan of Gami’ta Mrai, is my husband.” you say, facing the Vulcan you have been bonded to for months, yet have barely spoken to._

_“Somuk, doest thou accept T’Pem, daughter of Sekek, of the clan of Maxai S’adeth’s choice according to our laws and customs?”_

_“I do.”_

_“Then come before me, and I shall complete your bond, that you mayest be as one mind during the Time.” You and Somuk kneel before the dais, and T’Pid joins your minds and completes the bond. When she lets you go, you become distracted. Somuk has not yet entered the plak tow[ 13 ], but now that you are bonded it is moments away. Your body is preparing itself for what is to come. You barely understand the end of the ceremony over the telepathic input from your husband. The want he feels claws at you, too. _

_“Your selves and your clans are joined forever, parted from one another and never parted, never and always touching and touched. We depart now, and leave you to consummate the bond,” T’Pid says, and all the people in attendance file out as your new husband pulls you next to the wall and waits, possessive and suspicious, for everyone to leave. When they are only tinkling bells in the distance, he rips off your skirt._

Saavik dissolves the meld.

Spock finds control has once again left him, and confusion, sorrow, and anger war within. Satek climbs onto the captain’s chest from the chair he used to gain enough height to meld Saavik. Both he and the captain are crying, Satek in shamed (99.32%) little gasps, and the captain quietly, steadily, as though it’s been happening for a while. Saavik is crying, too, defiant (98.92%).

“That was my life. For two years, that was my life, do you understand? Pushed here, pulled there, always pretending to be someone else because I had no choice. So don’t fucking tell me what Vulcans don’t do, you half-blooded hypocrite. Acting Captain Kirk, I would like to request formal protection as a victim of sapient experimentation, forced cultural assimilation, and willful neglect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should show translations if you have Creator's Style turned off.
> 
> Please note that words are only translated in the end notes once per chapter, even if they're used more than once.  
>  1\. honored person [return]
> 
> 2\. honored female teacher [return]
> 
> 3\. bondmate [return]
> 
> 4\. ma'am [return]
> 
> 5\. girl [return]
> 
> 6\. honored grandmother [return]
> 
> 7\. honored grandfather[return]
> 
> 8\. granddaughter[return]
> 
> 9\. time of mating[return]
> 
> 10\. This is taken directly from the marriage ceremony in "Amok Time" but was never directly translated. My best guess from the VLD is "same-which-time", which... doesn't make much sense. Perhaps think of it as "[This is] the time in which [two become] the same".[return]
> 
> 11\. challenge[return]
> 
> 12\. marriage ceremony[return]
> 
> 13\. blood fever[return]


End file.
